Sakura on Fire
by Of Broken Love
Summary: AU. Uchiha Itachi is part of the Akatsuki, a gang who deals in drugs, prostitutes, and more to make millions of dollars. When Itachi meets Sakura, whose mother is a prostitute pimped by the very gang he's a part of, Itachi finds his ideals changing. As Sakura is dragged into the gang by force and Itachi is told to break her, he is forced to make a decision: love or power? HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**So, uh, yeah...I'm guilty. I shouldn't be posting another story, but I got inspired for an actual romance, so I felt the need to post it. I know I have a ton of other stories to be worked on, but they're all coming along so beautifully that I felt I could do with a third...or ninth. I don't know, I'm enjoying this story, as well as my others. We'll see what comes of this...updates may be slow.**

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**Chapter One:**

**Don't Feed the Sharks**

The Blackhole was lively at this time of night considering the music being played, Itachi noticed as he stared down at the half-empty alcoholic beverage in his hand. Up on the stage behind the bar was a jazz band playing mournful melodies that wafted drearily into crowd of mostly drunken people. Next to him on either side sat Hoshigaki Kisame and Fumestu Hidan. Itachi idly surveyed his friends. Kisame was rip-roaring drunk and Hidan was swearing even more profanely about life than usual, given his drunken stupor.

"Kisame," Itachi said just above the music that was wearing on his nerves, beautiful though it be. "Are you sure you've not had enough to drink?"

"Nahhhh," Kisame slurred, and then motioned for the bartender. Said man walked up to Kisame, giving his drunken state a weary look but bowing his head quickly to acknowledge service. "Whiskeyyyy," he slurred, dropping a couple hundred yen on the table. "K-keep the ch-change," he stumbled over his words.

Itachi had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Kisame was a diehard alcoholic and it wouldn't be long before the man got psoriasis of the liver. Alcohol was going to kill him someday, and Itachi had no idea how to stop it from happening.

"Bourbon." Hidan, too, had flagged the bartender, but somehow he had had more to drink than Kisame and was still alive and kicking. Hidan had the alcohol tolerance threshold of a mammoth.

Itachi stared down at his own vodka and Sprite, which he'd been nursing for the past hour as the band continued to play depressing music and Kisame and Hidan got destructively drunk on this beautiful, starry Friday, lost to the masses.

Itachi wondered why he went out to downtown San Francisco with his friends on nights like these. He'd much rather be stargazing on a hill in the suburbs, near where he lived in his homely two-bedroom apartment. Sometimes, nightlife just wasn't what it was cracked up to be.

But it wasn't all that bad, he'd decided, after leaving home in Kyoto, Japan to come to America. He'd long wanted to leave the corrupt Uchiha ways behind and get a fresh start. Luckily, when he'd made his first stop in San Francisco, it had given home a new meaning. He still lived off the family's fortune more or less, as his parents refused to stop sending money via electronic banking, but Itachi made most of his money doing things he'd prefer to say he didn't do.

Itachi, Kisame, and Hidan were all part of wildly feared gang called the Akatsuki. It was a tightknit group of Japanese gangsters who had come to the United States to make money off the easily-duped Americans. Pein, the official leader, led the small group flawlessly, and whenever there was a bust, another gang was always targeted by the cops. The money brought in was copious, whether it be from selling drugs, arming other gangs, pimping women, or even profiting off other gangs, and while Pein got his fair share, he was happy to delegate the riches evenly amongst his eight agents, as he called them. Itachi recounted the names in his mind as Kisame threw down another shot of whiskey.

_Akasuna Sasori, Shirokuro Zetsu, Sutetchi Kakuzu, Fumetsu Hidan, Bakudan Deidara, Hoshigaki Kisame, Sairento Itachi, and Tobi._

He still thought it was rather comical that Pein had instructed they create alternate identities for their job, but Itachi knew that it was only fair to the agents that Pein allow them this alter*ego, as they did more illicit things than most could ever dream of. It hadn't been all that hard to turn their very real visas into fake and at the same time real government IDs. They used their real first names and then a Japanese word that suited something about themselves. So to any Japanese speaker it read:

Red Sand _Sasori,_ Black and White _Zetsu_, Stitch _Kakuzu_, Immortal _Hidan_, Bomb _Deidara_, Hoshigaki Kisame—because the foolish man used his real name, apparently he had nothing to lose—and Silent _Itachi_. Tobi wouldn't register a last name with the gang and simply used his actual government ID, although Tobi was rarely seen and mostly heard of, even by the agents of Akatsuki. Pein used Tobi for very specific infiltration types of things, so whenever Itachi had seen Tobi, he was wearing an odd orange mask.

In Itachi's candid opinion, the orange mask was much more memorable than whatever could be underneath, but none of the Akatsuki had ever been caught, so he wasn't one to judge.

Oftentimes, gangs would come crawling to the Akatsuki for help—whether it be supply them with more goods, protection from the police or another gang, or anything they might need, as the Akatsuki were more or less the gangster gods—and Pein would either deem them useful or send them on their way. Useful never ended well for the gangs, really, Itachi mused. One would have thought that they would have learned by now, but every so often, a rookie would contact one of the Akatsuki's scouts—who were never anyone important—and ask for help. Yes, for a time the gang would flourish as Akatsuki gave them supplies and made money off the other gang's endeavors. But all good things eventually came to an end, except for the Akatsuki.

Itachi remembered when he'd first been recruited, not even a month after he'd arrived in America after his twenty-first birthday. They liked that he was born in Japan and they liked that he was practiced in martial arts, cultured, and a good shot on top of a brawler. They'd initially asked him to be the lead pimp, as Pein had been interested in prospering off that, as well. They had access to every drug imaginable, they had money, they had contacts, and they had women. The last piece of the puzzle was to get a man smart enough to manage the women in there.

Itachi had declined, hoping for a different position, one with less social interaction. He had always been quiet as a boy, not too keen on interacting with people when it wasn't necessary.

So Itachi had proposed a new idea. Given that he was more skilled at violence than socializing, he had joined Kisame and together they became the duo who punished those who were out of line. That put him directly in the line of other gangs' fire.

The Akatsuki was more than incredibly feared by the underworld of San Francisco, ranging in a huge radius around the city, nearly reaching Sacramento to the north. Pein did not have future plans for taking over the capital of California, however, as he knew that too far of a scope would mean they'd become distended and diluted, making it harder to continue the quality of their work. What Pein did not say but was the elephant in the room was that if they grew too large, too fast, it would become noticeable, and the last thing they needed was to all end up in the feds.

When Itachi had joined, he had known that he was picked for a specific reason, but he hadn't realized just how good the Akatsuki were at doing what they did. Eventually, in west San Francisco, things were heating up and the police were potentially on an Akatsuki trail. The moment Pein caught on that they were catching up—which was faster than the police could have ever hope to beat, for he knew it before they themselves even knew it—he would pull whatever gang they were currently sponsoring, or perhaps both if there were two, and would start sending them in the cops' way, thus diverting the trail and sending the wrong people to jail. It wasn't hard to do so, even though other gangs were slowly catching on, but that would be a slow fire to set when gang leaders rarely spoke to one another about official politics. Whoever had the most money was top dog.

Needless to say, Akatsuki had been ruling the playground for quite some time. Itachi was now twenty-eight. Sometimes, he wished for a different life—he couldn't very well ask for better, because he was respected, never had to do anything he didn't _really_ want to do in the first place, as he'd named his own position, and was paid with more luxuries than any man in a suit could ever hope for. It was easy living, he thought to himself. Women seemed to find him dark, dangerous, and irrevocably sexy, while men slunk away at the mere sight of him, whether they knew who he was or not.

Leaning back in his seat as Hidan swore at Kisame for apparently no good reason other than that Kisame mildly resembled a shark in the albino's drunken eyes, Itachi was able to guiltlessly tell himself that yes, he was definitely living the good life.

He noticed a trio of girls entering the bar and took note of the tall blonde one eyeing him. She was most certainly cute, he decided, with bright, sparkling blue eyes, a fair complexion, and a gorgeous body, but the makeup was a bit over the top in his opinion. She wore a baby blue halter top that was long enough to reach down over her voluptuous ass, which was barely covered by her extra-short blue jean shorts. She winked at him and then whispered to her friend, who was almost as tall with long black hair and the strangest white eyes. Upon further inspection, her eyes were more silver-lavender than white. She too was beautiful, a couple inches shorter than the blonde, with even larger breasts than the blonde but not as curvy of a form. Unfortunately, her ass was very lacking, but Itachi had found that no girl could be perfect, and sometimes when all the body fat went to the breasts there was very little to go to the hips. It was really too bad, because she wore just enough makeup for it to subtly enhance her looks, with a light red hint of blush on her cheeks, and a long, much more modest flowing lavender dress that was almost too formal to be wearing to a bar.

He almost missed the girl leading them, so fascinated with her friends as he was. She was walking to the center and in front of them. She had very short pink hair, so short it was almost impossible to tell if she dyed it or not. She would have had to be naturally blonde, he decided, because the bleach would ruin her scalp if it went that close to her head. Her hair cut was strange; it was a pixie cut, that was for sure, but he couldn't tell if she'd styled it to look male or not. It was longer on the top than on the sides, her bangs falling slightly into her face, but he'd seen a similar cut on teenage boys who claimed to be "emo" or "goth," as Americans would have it. From far away, it was almost as though she looked like a boy, but when he got a good look at her face, he knew she was not. Her body was curvy enough to reveal that she was female—but it was hidden by the white long sleeved button-up she wore and the black slacks that couldn't have hugged her body less. They were too long on her, he thought, because he could barely see what kind of shoes she was wearing. He opted with that they were heels, but looking at her short stature, he knew she couldn't have been boosting her height because she was already too short as it was. She was 5'3, _maybe_ 5'4 but her blonde friend was 5'10 and her raven-haired friend was at least 5'7. The pinkette would be easy to miss in a crowd, Itachi mused.

He watched from the corner of his eye, amused, as the girls' voices rose.

"Ino, don't," said the stoic pinkette, her face turned to her blonde friend. Itachi couldn't see her expression, but from the tone of her _very_ feminine voice, he knew she wasn't happy with whatever Ino was about to do.

Itachi, having watched many a girl in their early twenties bicker with one another as they approached him and his friends, knew the pinkette's words were futile.

"Hinata!" Ino wailed, turning to the raven-haired beauty. "Come on, you'll go with me, right?"

Hinata blushed. "You know I will, Ino, but remember, I already have-"

"Exactly, Ino," the pinkette said coldly. When she spoke, Itachi could have sworn the temperature in the room fell several degrees. "Hinata has Naruto. You have Shika. Don't be stupid."

"Well then maybe you should-" Ino began to stay, but was cut off almost immediately.

The next words were spoken so quietly that Itachi couldn't hear, but at Ino's shocked expression, he knew they had to have been at the very least interesting. Itachi nudged Hidan.

"Blonde's your type," he said in a dropped monotone, motioning with his head to the group of girls.

Hidan's eyes widened when he caught sight of Ino. "She sure is," he said with a dangerous grin. He leaned back and observed the girls with Itachi.

Suddenly, the girl called Ino suddenly grabbed the pinkette by the shoulder and dragged her towards the Akatsuki gentlemen sitting at the bar, grumbling just loudly enough to be heard over the music, "I'll show _you_ how to cause a scene."

Kisame had passed out, Itachi noticed, but he and Hidan were waiting as Ino dragged her friend over.

"Hello, boys," Ino said coyly, fluttering her eyelashes at Itachi specifically, sticking out her ass just a bit to accentuate her curves. "My friend Sakura here would like you to buy her a drink." Ino winked. "She's _single_."

Suddenly, Hidan's callous remark caught Itach's ear. "Wait, that's a _girl?_"

Ino glared at him and started to say something rude, but Itachi wasn't listening. He was staring at the scowling pinkette in front of him…Sakura.

It was quite obvious she was a girl now. Her features were delicate and feminine, her nose cute and aesthetically pleasing and was perfect above her pouty, full lips. She didn't wear an ounce of makeup and she still looked flawless. He scanned her face up to her eyes.

They were the most beautiful emerald he had ever seen, a shade so rare that he doubted any clothing color could match it, only compliment it. They were full of fire, he noted. Pain fueled that fire, he'd seen it before in others, when they were insulted, or when they were hurt or desperate. But this fire was so brightly burning, he could see that the pain reached deeper than the current moment. Something—or someone—had hurt her deeply in the past.

It was interesting, to say the least. Perhaps she wasn't just-

"Are you sure the tranny isn't gay?" Hidan asked, and Itachi felt rather than saw Sakura bristle.

"She's not a tranny!" Ino defended, but it was obvious the blonde was at a loss on how to defend her friend.

Unfortunately, Hidan had taken the question straight out of Itachi's mind and turned it into words. His initial reaction was that Sakura was gay, but he didn't get that vibe from her. After looking into her eyes, he saw that being gay, while possible, was certainly not Sakura's only problem.

"But you didn't say she wasn't gay," Itachi finally remarked, looking at Sakura for a reaction. Whatever she did next would either prove or disprove his theory.

When Sakura met his gaze with all the fury and hatred the world could ever bestow on a person, Itachi felt the strange sensation of his loins tingling. He tamped it down immediately.

What was it about those eyes that made him want her so suddenly? She was pretty, yes, perhaps outdone by Ino and Hinata, but he hadn't felt aroused looking at the other girls. She stirred something in him with those viridian hues, something that he-

"Of course she didn't deny it. I have a voice too, you know," Sakura spat at Itachi, which totally ruined his thought process and the thought was gone forever, leaving him hanging. Then she looked at him, to Hidan, and back and him, and said primly, snobbishly, bordering on arrogantly, "I am not gay," she announced, and then continued to say, "But standing here, looking at you pigs, I almost wish I was."

The boyish-looking girl standing there and saying that was a smack in the face to the men who took great pride in their masculinity, and shock reigned for about three full seconds. After the fourth second, Sakura grabbed Ino. "Come on, I'm hungry. This was a bad idea."

Itachi was shocked that a girl had said so few words but caused such a huge impression. He opened his mouth to stop them—he wasn't sure why, but he didn't want Sakura to go—but Hidan leaned over and yelled drunkenly, "You fucking bitch! You stupid fucking dyke, if I ever see you on the street I'll-"

Quickly noting that they'd actually managed to draw attention to themselves, Itachi gripped Hidan and gave Kisame a wake-up slap.

"Come on, boys. Time to go," he muttered hardly portraying the anger he felt. Hidan growled at Itachi, but noticing the look the bartender and the bouncers were giving him, he quieted and helped Itachi carrying the barely-conscious Kisame out of the bar. Itachi left a generous tip for the bartender, giving him a meaningful look to ensure silence. The bartender nodded, pocketed the wad of twenties, and then bid them good evening without glaring.

By the time they'd left, Sakura and her friends were already gone. For some reason, Itachi felt disappointed in what had just happened. It wasn't important, but Sakura had genuinely caught his interest and not as just a random fuck, either. Her personality had shone through on so many levels that Itachi wanted to dissect her, learn everything about her, find out why she was the way she was.

That wasn't too bad of an intention, was it?

Shaking his head, the three men hailed a taxicab and were taken back to their homes one by one.

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**Slow start, but this is going to be a fully developed romance, with very dark undertones. ItaSaku might not develop into romance for awhile, but around the third or fourth chapter they should actually interact. Hope I'm not giving too much away! Second chapter's near being up. I'm going to see if this story is liked at all, first, however. Feedback would be awesome, my lovelies!**

**Cheers!**

**~Of Broken Love~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Dark Sakura in this chapter...I know many of you won't like to see her this way, but the extremeness of her actions is necessary for the story to move forward.**

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter Two: Home Sweet Hell

Sakura Haruno stared at the doorstep of her and her mother's small, dingy apartment from where she sat, off to the side and almost on a neighbor's similarly cramped porch. The dim porch light flickered and buzzed, struggling to stay on, and the mat beneath her feet was worn and tarnished from its near-twenty year use. Frowning, she waited.

Male grunting could be heard from within the house, but aside from the occasional sound of pleasure, all was quiet. Frowning, Sakura waited for the noises to stop.

Checking her watch, Sakura heaved an angry sigh. It had already been two hours since she got home, so the job's length was probably going on three or four. Sakura had left the apartment at six with Ino and Hinata, been out for three hours, and then finally come home to their shitty living situation in south San Francisco. She sorely wished she'd brought a book or at least something to do other than text, and she would have had she known what was going to face her when she came home.

Rage filled her. Her mother knew not to bring work home, they'd had this discussion at least a thousand times. What was the fucking deal?

Sakura moved to sit down. She sat there seething in her rage for the next thirty minutes. She had never actually come home and been locked out of her own home by her mother. In actuality, she wasn't truly locked out, as the key was gathering angry sweat in her palm, but she knew that her psyche would be damaged severely if she were to walk in on her mother and some strange man. She waited, and waited, and waited, deciding not to respond to Ino's worried texts anymore.

Her phone buzzed in her pants' pocket.

_Ino Yamanaka: Wat the hell, forehead, y arent u responding?!_

Sakura rolled her eyes and couldn't help the angry comment that was passed from her brain to her fingers.

_Me: Learn to spell, Ino. We went to elementary school for a reason…_

_Ino Yamanaka: Shut it, forehead. Srsly, wats wrong_

Sakura didn't reply.

Sakura had never told any of her friends her mother's true profession, if it could be called that. It used to make ends meet, but with her mother's addiction spiraling out of control, heroin was replacing money and dirty needles were replacing paid bills. Sakura knew what she should do—send her mother to rehab—but she also knew what she would actually do and had done, which was get a job and pay them herself. She couldn't just leave her mother to die, because no matter how much she despised her mother's actions, Claire Haruno was still her mother and as much as Sakura hated to say it, she couldn't stop loving her. She still remembered the sparkling eyes that her mother had had when her and Sakura's father had gone on picnics on the beach, or the time her mother had congratulated her when she had graduated high school.

Then, just after Sakura had graduated, Honda Haruno had been found murdered in an alleyway.

Her mother had fallen to pieces at her husband's death. First it was just drinking much more than one should, then it was pot. Eventually it escalated, and Claire had gotten involved into a deep drug debt that a man with black stitches tattooed all over his body and odd, bright green eyes had come to collect.

The next day, Sakura's mother left by foot with a man with and came home in a black car with another greasy-haired man, driven by someone else entirely.

That had been Sakura's first experience with her mother's 'clients.'

Sakura had been confused at first, not sure what to think. She'd peeked out of her room and saw the man and her mother kissing passionately. Fury took over her and she stormed out of her room, screaming at her mother for bringing another man home when it hadn't even been a year after her father's death.

The look her mother gave her, sad, pleading, begging, told Sakura that something was very wrong.

"_Sakura, honey, just go back to your room. I'm at work right now."_

Sakura's world shattered into a thousand tiny pieces and numbly, Sakura had returned to her room.

The male grunts had been a part of her life for the next four years, but Sakura was rarely home and eventually her mother starting bringing them away from the house after many a talk.

No, she hadn't been supposed to be home the fateful day she found out, and she would have been none the wiser if she hadn't been, but she'd felt ill that morning and had taken the day off work. Long ago the bills had gone unpaid and Sakura found a job at the doctor's office around the corner as a receptionist. Her job scope was limited, as she lived in a terrible part of town where the buses were dangerous, so she would have to walk to and from work every day.

Ino had thought it was great that Sakura got a job, but Hinata was suspicious. Sakura and Hinata were emotionally closer than Ino and Sakura, so Hinata had been very confused why Sakura wasn't off to med school to pursue her dream of becoming a doctor. Sakura had told her that she was saving up to go to college, as much as lying to her friends killed her. Hinata had warily taken the lie as truth, but even now Sakura could tell that Hinata knew something was off. She also knew that Hinata would never pry, because Sakura wasn't one to hold back truths unless it was vital.

_Save up for college, my ass,_ she'd written in her letters to her dad the day she'd told Hinata. _If barely getting by paying for this shitty place and buying food left anything over, then I wouldn't be lying. Unfortunately, the sad truth is, Dad, I'm probably never going to college…not until mom dies._

Sakura had started writing her father letters shortly after he was killed. It made her feel closer to him. Then, when things got bad with her mother, she'd turned the letters into rants and raves at him, angry with him for leaving because it would have never gotten _this_ bad. They'd always been poor, but this was crossing a line. Now, whenever Sakura went out, she had to borrow Ino or Hinata's clothing to even be mildly presentable.

So lost in her thoughts was Sakura that she didn't hear the door opening. It was one of her mother's regulars, obviously, because she'd seen him walking to his car in the parking lot before. Sakura's stomach clenched as he leered at her when she stood up to go inside.

"Pretty face, such a shame," he said in a pitying voice. "If you ever turn out like your mother, I'll be happy to pay." He grinned, dirty intentions filling his eyes, the slimeball.

Sakura had never been known for anger control, and this sealed the deal. The night had already been ruined when that silver-haired douchebag questioned her sexuality _and_ gender, and she'd already barely held her composure. Never had one of her mother's clients spoken to her, but this man had crossed her at a very wrong time. Fury of the most wrong sense filled her and suddenly, Sakura felt taken over by another personality altogether.

Not thinking of the consequences, Sakura walked up to him and stood in his way, blocking him from exiting.

"I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you?" she purred, as seductively as she could. At that moment, she noticed the wedding band of the ring finger of his left hand, which was the hand he lifted to caress her cheek with. The rage intensified.

"Looks like I might not have to pay after all?" he questioned, eyes glinting with lust. Christ, hadn't he just had like four hours of sex?

"Oh, I'll charge," Sakura said sweetly, reaching up to grasp his hand. Her next words turned into a growl and a ferocious look took over her features. "You'll pay in _blood._"

With that, she tightened her grip on his hand and twisted it the only direction she knew how: the wrong one.

A sharp snap pierced the night and he screamed. "You bitch! You bitch! I'll kill you, you little-"

"Not likely," Sakura seethed through gritted teeth. He swung back to hit her with his right hand and Sakura took the slap to the face, moving her face with the hit so it had less impact, even though she knew there would be likely a bruise or at least a red mark afterwards. The pain stung, but it only egged her on further, and she kneed him hard in the groin. He cried out, falling to his knees, now crying instead of yelling.

_Pussy,_ Sakura thought cruelly.

Lifting one booted foot, she kneed him in the face. The crunch of his nose breaking satisfied her immensely, and she almost thought she would leave him be. She needed to wash Hinata's pants before the blood solidified, ruining the beautiful slacks.

As she was walking away, she noticed him move his hands away from his face and go to his pants.

Her immediate thought was a gun, but even in this neighborhood he would be foolish to do that. No, he wouldn't risk that, but he might have-

Just as Sakura turned around to make sure she wasn't in danger, a flash of silver swung at her face, barely scraping her nose. Somehow, he'd missed.

_Knife,_ she confirmed as a small trickle of blood dripped down her nose, and fear mixed with her anger. She hadn't expected this to escalate like this, and she was suddenly on the losing team.

"You bitch!" he yelled at her, swinging again. Sakura, not turning her back, took a large step backwards. Blood had drenched his face due to his broken nose, she noted, and the swelling was impairing his vision. Knowing there would be no peace treaties to be had of this, she let him lunge forward, bringing up her knee with impeccable timing.

"Smart, but too slow," she growled as he crumpled to ground the ground. Sakura wrenched the knife from his hand and held it at his neck. "You're a pig. I think the world should know it."

Sakura had never felt this way before. It wasn't her first fight, but she hadn't fought in a long time, not since early middle school. Her father had been so disappointed in her that she'd vowed to never fight again. But hearing this man insulting her and her mother had turned a bad night into a somehow very good one.

Bloodlust filled her, adrenaline pumping, rage flaring, and she decided to leave her mark on this man. Surely it was fair to warn his wife.

**_P_** on the left side of his forehead.

**_I_** in the center, right above his bleeding nose.

**_G_**, carved neatly into the right side.

The man screamed the entire time, grappling her, but he was a smaller man and so when Sakura straddled his chest, pinned his flailing arms down, nothing would come of it. Nobody came to help, as it was so common for abuse to happen in this neighborhood that screams were no longer a threat. Gun shot, yes. Screaming, no.

It was a familiar voice to some people, though, so it wasn't surprising that her mother came barreling out of her room to see the threat.

"Sakura!"

At the sound of her mother's hoarse voice, Sakura felt the bloodlust leave her instantly and she calmed and dropped the knife. She was done, anyways. She stood up and stepped over the man, noticing that her white shirt was bloody and frowning.

"You bitch, you whore," whimpered the man who had certainly lost too much blood, clutching his face.

"You need to enlarge your vocabulary, asshole," Sakura growled before walking inside. When she saw her mother move to assist the man who was slowly but surely getting up, Sakura grabbed her arm to stop her.

"No, mom," she said coldly. "We need to talk." It was a given that Sakura wasn't nearly as mad now that she'd emptied it all on the punching bag with labored breathing out on the porch.

"Sakura, what have you done?" Claire demanded shrilly. "We have to call the EMS!"

"What, and get everybody here arrested?" Sakura demanded furiously at her mother's stupidity. "Yes, mom, do that. I'm sure you can come up with a good excuse for the needles in the living room, the bleeding man on the porch, and the fact that he paid to have sex with you! I'm sure your fucking pimp will be _so_ happy!"

Her mother was silently crying at this point, but Sakura didn't have time to feel bad for her. She grabbed the roll of paper towels from the kitchen and threw them at the man, who had frozen somewhere midway to standing.

"Never come back here," Sakura said coldly. "Ever. Or I will cut your dick off next time."

The man looked at her, and despite the blood in his eyes, he looked at her in awe. "You're a psychopath."

"Not even close," Sakura spat, and then dragged her silently crying mother inside and left the man to deal with himself.

"Mom, stop crying," Sakura said quietly as the door shut, suddenly feeling bad about what had happened now that they were no longer with the man. She didn't feel bad for doing it so much as the fact that her mother had seen it and was looking at her like she really _was_ a psychopath.

"Who-who are y-you?" Claire hiccupped, sobbing terribly. "You-you're not my d-d-daughter. M-my Sakura w-would n-never do that!"

Sakura was getting tired from all the emotions rushing in and out of her like people at the stock market on a busy day. Anger returned, not totally unwelcome.

"Yeah, you're right," she agreed coolly, although the bite in her tone was obvious. "And you're not my mother, because my mom would never sell her body to anybody, especially not when her husband's probably watching her do it in heaven!"

Her mother froze. "Sakura…what's happened to you? What happened to my baby girl?"

Sakura's eyes widened in shock. "Are you serious? Your 'baby girl' grew up when she realized that mom wasn't paying the bills anymore and was too busy screwing guys to get her fucking heroin!"

Claire's eyes matched Sakura's in pain. "Sakura, I…"

"Don't make the excuses, I've heard them all before. They're bullshit," Sakura said, inwardly running out of the energy she needed to stay angry, but her tone stayed the same. "Mom? Don't bring guys back. I will do that to every single one who comes to this house, okay?" Sakura's voice was calm now, tired.

"Sweetie, are you…sure you don't need help?" Claire looked genuinely concerned for the first time in years. It cut into Sakura that her mother actually looked afraid of her.

Sakura shook her head, suddenly starting to realize that she had done something very bad. Very, _very_ bad. She'd let anger rule her and now some guy could possibly be bleeding to death. Fear froze over her, but she kept her façade cool, trying not to let her face show that the reality of the situation was terrifying her.

Instead, she looked at her mom said in a monotone, "Are you sure you shouldn't be asking yourself that?"

Sakura stalked back into her room, silently hoping she wouldn't be awoken by cops in the middle of the night.

She wasn't.

* * *

**Like I said, dark Sakura. No, she isn't a psychopath, I promise. Just a very troubled and easily angered girl.**


	3. PLEASE HELP OUR FF AUTHORS!

I have written this PM to an author who has wronged many people on FF .net. It is my hope that everyone who reads this will spread the word in any way they can. If you do not know who this is, please look at her profile as soon as possible. You will see the horrors I am speaking of in my letter. No one has the right to be cruel to others like this. She is a cyber bully and needs to be stopped. Please post this wherever you can. I am going to apply this to all of my stories, so if you receive this once, please don't worry about the rest.

* * *

Dear Concilliabule,

I want to politely ask you to remove all of the horrible things you have said about other people on your account. I don't care what you do with what you do with your correspondence with me, but I am truly disgusted by your cruelty. Make fun of me all you want, claim whatever you wish about me, but your actions have to stop. You are terrorizing people with your cruel words and your atrocious attitude. Nobody wants someone like you on this site. You are only mean to people from what I can see. I truly apologize if what I have written offends you, but what you are doing is MORALLY WRONG. I don't know if you were raised with a religion. If you are, I plead with you to think about what you are doing and remove your content from your profile page. If you are not, please understand that you are HURTING people and that what you are doing is WRONG. Your opinion is important, but not to the point of scorning other people. You are not god, Concilliabule, but you are acting like it. I myself do not wish you removed from this site, but if that's what needs to happen, I will pursue that length to greatest of my ability. Please stop terrorizing people, Concilliabule. It is not fair to them and it looks terrible on you.

If I do not see your content removed in three days, I am going to take the highest action possible to removing your account. Please consider this and reconsider your cruel actions. You have hurt enough budding authors and I do not wish to see you do it any longer.

Thank you for your time,  
Of Broken Love

* * *

It is my hope to start a petition. As stated, I have requested her to remove the heinous content from her profile in three days of receiving this. It is currently 9:00 CST on July 31st, 2013. On August 4th (I am trying to give her as much time as possible) I will submit a petition to the FanFiction . net owners requesting her to be removed on the accounts of CyberBullying and general atrocious behavior towards other authors. If you are interested in signing this petition, please PM me, stating your username and why you would like her removed.

Thank for your time.

Of Broken Love


End file.
